


The Haunting of Gallavich Place

by fckyeahgallavich



Series: Requests/Prompts [21]
Category: Shameless (US), gallavich - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Feels, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Interrupted Domestic Bliss, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:34:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fckyeahgallavich/pseuds/fckyeahgallavich
Summary: PROMPT: i want a story about Ian and Mickey living in a haunted house, maybe they bought it after the wedding or got it as wedding gift whatever comes to your mind, and the ghosts of the house, especially one particular ghost, is really fond of Mickey likes him a lot and wants Mickey for himself
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Requests/Prompts [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/878244
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	The Haunting of Gallavich Place

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Spooky month!  
> I was hoping to have this complete by Halloween but it doesn't seem that will be the case. I will update as I can but I wanted to release what was already written and will still TRY to finish by Hallows Eve

It didn’t take long after the wedding for Ian and Mickey to decide that living at the Gallagher house wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Privacy was the number one issue — that issue being that there was none. 

At least once a week one Gallagher sibling or another would walk in on them sharing an intimate moment in bed or while they took advantage of having the house to themselves and canoodled on the sofa.

It was Liam walking in on Mickey mid-ride that struck the final nail in the coffin of their time at 2119 South Wallace. By that event, even Ian couldn’t argue for why it wasn’t the right time for them to move out.

They searched for weeks, determined to find a _house_ in which to start developing their home together. Though it would make sense to most people to start with an apartment and move up to a house, they both felt that it was a waste of money and time to rent when they were so ready to start building their home, and a waste of space and time to bother with an apartment when they knew a family was in the near horizon. 

For weeks they scoured Zillow and Realtor.com searching first in Canaryville, Engelwood, and virtually any neighborhood where they felt familiar… But everything in a realistic price range was… Christ, practically condemned. 

They laughed at atrociously painted yellow and green homes, agreeing that blue was usually pretty easy on the eyes by means of exterior. They both agreed that they hated red brick — too much like the Milkovich house, and it turned out there were a fuckin lot of bungalow style buildings resembling Mickey’s old house of horrors. As they continued searching, they each thought of new things that they wanted included in their dream home. Ian insisted on a yard, front or back if not both, so their kids could have room to actually play. Mickey decided to rule out any houses with less than two full bathrooms, making the point that if they wanted to give their future family a better life than they had, then one of the first, and simplest, ways in which to do that was to provide a second full bathroom so there was no longer such a thing as “first” showers. They realized as they continued their search that they needed the basement to be at least mostly finished if not completely set with no loose insulation or cracked foundation. They decided on hardwood floors so it would be simple enough to strip and refinish rather than ripping up and replacing filthy carpets — deciding also in that moment that they’d be one of those queens with a fuck-ton of rugs decorating the house, acting as center pieces to “tie the room together” and all that boujee bullshit. 

As much as they laughed though, they also groaned in frustration as day after day their searches came up with nothing even worth scheduling a visit to see in person. Mickey started accusing Ian of being too picky and Ian reminded Mickey that once they moved, there would be no way they could afford to pick up and move elsewhere if it turned out they hated it. They _had_ to be picky.

It was Mickey’s idea to search outside of the main city of Chicago. Ian resisted because as hard as it was to move out of the Gallagher house, the idea of being more than half an hour’s L ride away was even more unthinkable. Mickey laid it down plain and to the point: “Either we search outside of Chicago main or we settle with something we don’t actually like and have to live with it for the next forty to fifty years.” 

No one could have guessed at the gorgeous white brick bungalow waiting for them in Des Plaines, Illinois. The property was over a hundred years old — and it looked it. But it was only $40,000, had seven rooms and two bathrooms, and plenty of back and front yard. They called to schedule the walk-through with a real estate agent and went to the bank later that same afternoon. 

Two days later they took the orange line, the blue line, and then the 206 bus out to their walkthrough. They idly wondered aloud during the near two hour commute whether the house would look as it did in the pictures or if it would look even worse… They determined that they would need to examine the floors and stairs, the foundation in the basement, the light fixtures… Everything that could possibly lead to a large expense later. From the pictures online they already knew that they were going to have to replace the showers, all the doors, repaint the walls and refinish the floors, maybe even change the tiles in the bathrooms and kitchen.

This house would be a fixer-upper regardless of if they walked in as it exactly appeared or if it was a little worse. But replacing doors and choosing new light fixtures were easy, even sprucing up the flooring and paint would be simple labor — even the tiles they were sure they could figure out on their own. Electricity and foundational issues or termites and rusted out plumbing? That would have to be a deal-breaker, even if they loved it. 

The real estate agent was already waiting in the front yard, which was roughly the same size as the Gallagher front yard, maybe two square feet deeper. The brick looked exactly the same as in the picture, paint peeling and splintered on the edges. The real estate agent smiled brightly as they approached, sticking out a well manicured, porcelain hand.

“Mr.s Gallagher! So glad to meet you. I’m Stephanie Grover, your agent.” Ian accepted her hand in a firm shake, introducing himself as ‘Ian.’ Mickey just waved lightly, politely dismissing the hand shake and Ian tacked on with a small snort of a laugh, “and my husband, Mickey.” She smiled generously and greeted them once again, thanking them for arranging this walk through.

“So!” She beamed, turning to the house. “How do you feel looking at her?” She asked.

“Looks good,” Ian answered kindly. Mickey barely concealed a snort. The place was a whole-ass shithole. But for some reason, it did feel _right._ … Like it was _their_ shithole.

“A fixer-upper, obviously,” Mickey added reasonably, but not rudely. Ian shot him a look but Stephanie just nodded sagely.

“Yes, ‘fixer-upper’ is a fair descriptor, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Oh, Mickey... please,” Mickey laughed. 

“Mickey,” she corrected with a kind grin. “The house is quite old, but has excellent bones. We have had the house inspected several times since it was put on the market and every time with a stamp of approval as a smart investment.”

“Have there been a lot of inquiries on the house?” Ian asked.

“Oh, yes! That’s where all those inspections came from.”

“So… Are there a lot of offers on it right now?” Ian asked nervously. Mickey could already tell that Ian was worried about getting too excited only to have the house snatched from them.

“No, actually. It’s strange; the couples will come back for a follow-up visit to decide if they want it but don’t put an offer in…” Her blonde brows furrowed ever so slightly, but snapped back to a relaxed position almost immediately. “Must be that the house is waiting for someone specific! Hopefully it’s you two!” she giggled sweetly and though Mickey arched a brow at the suggestion, he also couldn’t disagree with her. Even though it did look like a shithole, he could practically see those one or two children chasing each other in this yard, Ian chasing them, Mickey sitting on the top step with a cigarette in hand and being pressured to join in the fun when he finished it.

“Would you like to see the inside?” Stephanie asked softly, clearly not wanting to rush the process but wanting to get to the main features of the house.

“Yeah, of course!” Ian replied enthusiastically. Mickey smirked at his tone, amused.

They climbed up the stairs to the front porch, Mickey specifically stomping to test if any of the boards were loose or rotting. Ian said nothing about it because he’d known Mickey would, though Stephanie looked concerned as she watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“Solid front steps,” Mickey murmured to Ian who nodded. The realtor fiddled with the front lock, shimmying the metal around in the fixture.

“New locks,” Ian whispered in Mickey’s ear. Mickey nodded. That was an easy enough fix, though. The door itself looked slightly swollen from age, the moisture from a century clearly expanding within the grains of the wood.

“New door,” Mickey mumbled back. Ian shrugged; that was a maybe.

“There we go!” Stephanie exclaimed excitedly, swinging the door in and gesturing to the men to enter.

Much like the Gallagher house, there wasn’t an entryway so much as an immediate right into a family room. They followed that natural course and couldn’t help but laugh at the whimsical green paint peeling away from an _ancient_ wallpaper the paint had clearly been meant to cover. The green was some mix of a minty and neon hue and it baffled them in person as much as it had in the pictures on the website.

“Glad you guys kept the paint from the pictures,” Ian laughed, reaching out to finger at one of the shreds of wall exposed from where the paint at flaked away. Stephanie’s sensible heels clacked against the tile at the entry as she followed her clients into the house.

“Yes,” she laughed. “I think the colors give the house some… _character_.”

“A history, that’s for sure,” Mickey mumbled. He could practically see the hoards of children running through the multiple rooms, up and down the stairs… hear them begging their parents for the very colors Ian and Mickey had seen on the website.

“I guess the previous owners had a lot of kids,” Ian suggested to no one in particular.

“The house has been vacant for some time, but yes I think that is a safe bet.” In other words, it’s been on the market for so long that no one with the realtor company even knows. Mickey’s brows furrowed.

“How long has the house _been_ on the market?” he asked. Stephanie’s eyes betrayed her worry at the question — clearly, she always hoped no client would ask that question.

“I’m not entirely sure… Longer than I’ve been with the company…” Wow… She was really working hard to avoid coming out with it.

“So long that you have no idea how long?” Mickey clarified. She grimaced. Ian turned away from the windows he was examining and shot Mickey a look that practically screamed ‘don’t be a dick, Mick.’

“These windows look new, even have the ‘Made in the USA’ sticker on it still... Caulk looks new too.” Stephanie took a deep breath, gathering herself.

“We have had a few buyers who started work but rescinded their offers within the thirty days,” she admitted. 

“Any reason in particular?” Ian pressed.

“Just not the right fit, I believe,” she sighed, smile taking on a forced quality. Ian and Mickey exchanged wary looks.

“Windows’re done,” Ian shrugged.

“One less thing to do, I guess,” Mickey agreed.

The couple wandered through the family room, examining the flooring and ceiling, peeking into the side rooms placed in a row down the hall leading to the kitchen. When they entered the latter room Ian couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Aw, fuck. That’s an even bigger mess than I thought…” He covered his mouth with the palm of his hand to contain his shock and amusement. The wall was covered in assorted wallpaper, bare exposed drywall, and tiles with cracked grouting. It didn't even appear to have any intentional reasoning behind the arrangement, either.

Mickey laughed too after absorbing the mess that was the main kitchen wall.

"Je-sus Christ," he chuckled, stepping forward to finger the crumbling grout between the hideous floral tiles.

The floor also needed work, they realized together at hearing Stephanie's heels' clacking change tone from entering the room. Half linoleum and half real hard wood.

"Will need to install our own cabinetry and counters, though," Ian murmured disappointedly. Mickey shrugged.

"Hey, at least that means we're choosin' those. Ian nodded, accepting the point and turning back to the wall where the refrigerator and stove sat, spaced out to indicate where counters had previously been but were already removed by a previous owner.

Ian opened the refrigerator to find that clean at the very least, and Mickey repeated the motion with the oven. The damn thing was half the size of a modern stove, likely being from the last century like much of the rest of the house. The men looked at each other and shrugged. They could deal with shitty appliances for now. So long as they could make hot food and keep what needed to be cold, cold, they'd be fine.

Mickey walked the perimeter of the room, sliding his boots to the sides of his stride to get a thorough feel for the flooring and heard not even so much as a creak.

"The floors really are strong," Mickey remarked, impressed and satisfied. Stephanie beamed.

"Yes, like I said: definitely a fixer-upper but she's got strong bones."

Much like the Gallagher house, a set of stairs leading to the top floor of the house stood to the side of the dining area.

"Shall we?" Ian asked with a wide grin, gesturing dramatically up the stairs. Mickey rolled his eyes, but was truthfully excited by Ian's own enthusiasm. He clearly was loving the house -- or maybe more accurately, he was loving the challenge of fixing the house into their home. And Mickey was just happy that Ian was happy.

A few of the stairs creaked and the staircase itself was narrow almost like climbing up a secret tunnel of some sort, but Mickey didn't mind the close proximity of the walls. He did wonder if it would come to feel claustrophobic at some point, though...

They ventured through the top level of the house, noticing that as had been the case with the downstairs, the upstairs rooms all lacked doors. Mickey raised a brow at Ian who examined the doorways.

"No doors?" Ian asked, turning to the realtor who once again looked wary from her spot in the hallway. She shrugged and Mickey got a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, Ian's excitement be damned. He wandered through the hall, peeking into more whimsically painted rooms: bright-ass teal and lavender and the same weirdly mixed green from the living room.

He heard Ian following behind him and Mickey couldn't help but shake his head when he noticed that not even the _closets_ had doors though the build of it made it obvious that there were supposed to be.

"This is gonna be a fuck-ton of money, man." Mickey finally blurted, turning to match gazes with his husband. "Doors ain't cheap and that's a fuckin' _mess_ downstairs... Counters, removing all that shit from the wall, finishin' replacing the hardwood..." Ian's mouth quirked in disappointed agreement.

"This is probably the least expensive property you are going to find in the area, I can assure you of that," Stephanie interjected. And they knew she wasn't lying. This was by far the least expensive listing they'd seen. In fact, they'd thought it was a fuckin' joke considering how many damn rooms there are! But now it was starting to make sense: the work involved with finishing the house lowered the value considerably. This could be an incredibly valuable property, but the progress still needing to be made is what tanked the current value.

The set of Stephanie's face and the way she defended the price of the house told Mickey all he needed to know: the price was inflexible; or at least it wasn't flexible enough to make a huge difference to the grand total. Mickey sighed and returned his attention to Ian.

"C'mon, Mick. The floors and foundation are in great shape, no termites even though it's a hundred year old house... Good yard and lots of space to do _whatever we want with!_ " Mickey bit his lip. His husband's excitement was _tangible_ , yet Mickey couldn't ignore the crowded feeling in his stomach.

"We've gotta basically fill this house from scratch. And not even with _stuff_ but the bare essentials! Doors and flooring and mirrors and light fixtures, if we want a ceiling fan so we don't have to run the A/C as much-" he paused and turned to Stephanie, once again standing in the hallway, looking in on the couple. "Does this house even _have_ A/C?" The realtor's face scrunched up into a wince which was answer enough. "A/C installation, Ian!"

Ian sighed and looked around, though there wasn't much to see in this one room.

"We're really not going to find a better deal, even _with_ having to put so much into it. We can probably ask for an additional ten on top of the loan we've got." Mickey's eyes rolled back at the thought of borrowing more money. He ran a hand through his hair and scrunched his fingers at the back of his neck to relieve some tension.

The clacks of Stephanie's heels grabbed Mickey's attention and he looked up at her sudden presence in the room. His brow furrowed as he took in her posture... the expression on her face. He guessed that she sensed she was losing a sale and could practically feel the nerves radiating off her from it.

"I'll take that ten off to help out such a lovely young couple such as yourselves." she blurted. Both men's eyes burst wide in their faces as they exchanged glances.

"Don't you... don't you need, like... permission to do somethin' like that?" Mickey asked.

"I simply can not allow for such a beautiful couple to struggle. You _must_ buy this house and you _must_ be able to do with it what you desire!" The men exchanged glances again. She'd... sounded so firm before. That crowded feeling in Mickey's stomach returned, a sense of unease and dread settling about him.

"I uh... I think we should probably think on it, Ian," Mickey murmured.

"You realize I mean ten grand, right, Stephanie?" Ian asked at almost the same time. Hearing what Mickey said Ian turned to him to respond, "If we're gettin' ten off then that's more than enough to cover what we're going to need to fix the place up!" Ian insisted.

"Yes," Stephanie agreed. "Ten thousand dollars off the price. As I said, I want you two to have this house." Mickey's eyes narrowed.

"This is some sort of joke, right?" Mickey demanded irritably.

"I would never joke about such things, Mickey!" Stephanie cried, aghast.

When Mickey met Ian's eyes again, the hope and desire alight in his husband's expression was what finally sold it.


End file.
